Post-It Promises
by littlewhiteliar
Summary: Blaine Anderson and Kurt Hummel are the best of friends, and have been since their Junior year in high school. But according to Blaine...that's kind of the problem. Having effectively friend-zoned himself at the age of 17 with the only man he could ever fall in love with, Blaine finally wises up. Thing is, Kurt's now quite happy with Adam. Stupid, perfect Adam. -College!AU-
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: Hi there! This is my first fanfiction, so I don't know my way around quite yet. I am in need of a Beta, and I would really appreciate if anyone could point me in the right direction, or even if you would like to talk to me about Beta-ing this story yourself. Please feel free to PM me!**

**This story is AU, but canon up until Original Song save one little detail: Blaine and Kurt are in the same grade. Please note that it is rated M, so there will be some more mature material, but nothing too graphic. If same-sex relationships bother you for any reason, you will not enjoy this. If you are not comfortable reading about topics such as past bullying/violence, past child neglect, or situations of a sexual nature, all dealt with as tastefully as possible and in a non-graphic manner, please do not continue reading. **

**If I haven't scared you off yet, I hope you enjoy my little project here! ;) **

**Disclaimer: I do not own '**_**Glee**_**'. It and any songs/lyrics mentioned belong to their rightful owners, and no copyright infringement is intended. **

**- Av**

* * *

**Post-It Promises  
**

**Chapter One**

The humidity of summer was barely beginning to eclipse spring's chill, but the air in the apartment on the fourth floor of one of those weathered brick buildings that gave the impression of old-time New York felt stifling. Blaine Anderson had sprawled himself out on the sofa, clutching a cup of cooling coffee despite the heat. Grimacing at a mouthful of the bitter drink, he discarded it on the side table and resigned to feeling sorry for himself without caffeine.

The lights of the city outside the vast windows blurred into an energetic haze, reminding the 20 year old that he should be out having a couple of beers and dancing with his friends, not wearing a pair of hideous NYU sweatpants and sulking in the apartment he shared with Kurt when his roommate wasn't even there.

But that was the point, wasn't it? Kurt was out again, on a date with that cute guy he met at the coffee shop/karaoke bar/in his dance class at NYADA. Or. Whatever. Blaine didn't know, because Blaine didn't want to know, because Blaine had been a totally oblivious idiot in high school and was now, as a Sophomore in college, completely, painfully not-oblivious, but still an idiot. And apparently he was also going crazy, because mentally berating oneself for past and present idiocy had to be a sign of becoming certifiable.

Kurt Hummel and Blaine Anderson had only grown closer over the years, learning each other inside and out and supporting each other through their final years of high school. The problem was, Blaine had missed his chance. In fact, Blaine had missed every single one of his numerous chances throughout the past four years, and suddenly, every excuse he'd ever made to justify not admitting his feelings sounded stupid and cowardly. Which was exactly what they were. 'I'm not ready for a relationship', 'It's too early', 'He needs a friend, not a boyfriend', and his own personal favorite, 'It's just a high school crush, it'll go away' all sounded particularly pitiful that late June evening, when Blaine knew that Kurt was off having fun - off on a _date_ - with another man. They always did, every single time one of them announced a new boyfriend. First came Chandler, then Blaine finally gave in to Sebastian. Neither relationship ended well. Then there was Evan for Kurt, and Eli for Blaine (who ended up being nothing more than a one-night stand. It didn't matter - he was a jerk anyway, and far too much like Sebastian). After that they had both dated, but nothing ever lasted.

Wondering bitterly if he'd ever really even had a chance for anything but friendship with Kurt, Blaine dragged himself off the couch and into his bedroom, rifling through his closet; his solitary pity party wasn't exactly productive, and he figured that if he was going to go crazy, he might as well do it with some company and a little alcohol. Dragging his hungover ass to Tisch the next morning wouldn't be an issue - thank God for afternoon classes - and he didn't even know if Kurt would be home that night. The thought made him queasy, so he pushed it aside vehemently.

It didn't matter anyway. In a few hours he'd be too drunk to give a damn.

* * *

Sweat and noise and thick, smoky air wrapped Blaine in a bubble of blissful oblivion, safe from any painful notions. The four beers he'd downed had him in a pleasant daze, gladly dancing with anyone who showed interest. Perhaps this guy was a bit handsy, but his laugh was pleasant, and he had a nice body, and _who-the-hell-cared-anymore_? A tangle of arms guiding him to the door of the club, another low, easy chuckle in his ear and a pair of lips pressing too-wet kisses to his neck. A yellow and black cab ("Like a...like a _beeee_! _Kurt_ calls me Bee..."), an address rattled off in a series of barely-intelligible slurs, a couple of staircases and a door slamming shut. Fingers winding in hair and clothes and skin on skin. Too hot, too much, not enough, not what Blaine wanted. Release, but nothing more.

* * *

The door clicking shut echoed in the apartment, seeming much more obnoxiously loud than it probably should have, but Blaine was too out of it to really care.

Kurt let himself in sometime around six in the morning. Blaine was burrowed into the couch once more, lying on his churning stomach with his legs splayed over the arm, face buried in the sofa cushion, and arm flung over the side.

Kurt took in his best friend with a soft smile, dropping his keys onto the table by the door and setting his messenger bag against its legs. Kicking off his shoes, he caught Blaine's now-open eyes and giggled at the bleary, drowsy look in them.

"How's the hangover?" he teased affectionately, and chuckled when Blaine chose not to dignify his comment with a reply, instead re-burying his face in the cushion.

Kurt made his way over to the couch and settled himself gently against Blaine's back, nuzzling the curve of his shoulder blade and reaching up to ruffle his curls, still damp from the shower he had taken promptly upon returning.

"You okay, sweetie?" Kurt prompted, a little perturbed by Blaine's lack of protest if anything. Blaine shrugged petulantly.

"I'm a little sick of this sort of thing, honestly. I just wish I could find someone..."

"Aww, Bee," Kurt sighed, "you'll find Mr. Right," he promised. "Anyway, we're young. We've got all the time in the world. Who knows when you'll meet the guy of your dreams, but you'll know it when you do."

Kurt gave a dreamy sigh that indicated he spoke from experience, and Blaine fought the lump in his throat, sniffling into his arm.

That's the problem. I already have.

* * *

**Author's Note: Yes, touchy-feely Klaine friendship is my absolute favorite thing in the world. :)**

**I hope you enjoyed this prologue of sorts. Any feedback you might have is welcome. Happy Singles' Awareness Day, everyone!**

**-Av**


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: …And now I've sufficiently tired myself out between writing, schoolwork, and my very own relationship drama. (Yaaay.) I'm gonna go finish my homework and then take a nap before dinner. ^_^ **

**Sorry in advance for Blaine's strange little internal monologues. This is something I do to myself, and somehow it transferred onto him at some point in my writing process. :-P Enjoy!**

**This story is AU, but canon up until Original Song save one little detail: Blaine and Kurt are in the same grade. Please note that it is rated M, so there will be some more mature material, but nothing too graphic. If same-sex relationships bother you for any reason, you will not enjoy this. If you are not comfortable reading about topics such as past bullying/violence, past child neglect, or situations of a sexual nature, all dealt with as tastefully as possible and in a non-graphic manner, please do not continue reading.**

**If I haven't scared you off yet, I hope you enjoy my little project here! ;)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own '**_**Glee**_**'. It and any songs/lyrics mentioned belong to their rightful owners, and no copyright infringement is intended.**

**- Av**

* * *

**Post-It Promises**

**Chapter Two**

Blaine loved living with Kurt. _Really_. He loved seeing him every day, no matter how busy their schedules got; he loved hearing Kurt sing in the shower, unrefined and imperfect and gloriously raw; he loved eating dinner with him, or even just pulling a container out of the fridge with one of their little green sticky notes attached to it, knowing that Kurt had left it, Kurt had taken thirty seconds out of his day to write a few words to him, and Blaine mattered enough to Kurt for him to do things like that.

The only thing Kurt didn't love about living with Kurt was the near-constant lack of any sort of privacy - a tiny apartment with paper mâché walls wasn't exactly the epitome of discrete. It simply made certain things difficult, especially when Blaine was harboring an intense, long-term, entirely inappropriate crush on his roommate. Jerking off to racy thoughts of said roommate was not only kind of creepy, but would certainly make things highly uncomfortable for both parties, as Blaine knew he tended to be quite _loud_.

This, of course, left him in a fairly perpetual state of arousal with very limited time to take care of such things, between work, classes, social obligations, and those times Kurt was at home. Hence, it was not helpful to Blaine's situation when he woke up with Kurt curled into his side, having slipped off his back and into the small space between the back of the sofa and Blaine himself. The chestnut-haired boy blinked up at Blaine foggily, arching his back like a cat and curling his toes into Blaine's ankle as he stretched away the cramps of sleeping on a couch and whatever activities he and Adam had surely gotten up to the previous evening.

"Hi," Kurt yawned before scrunching up his nose and placing his hand over Blaine's parted lips. "Eww, morning breath," he complained with a giggle. Blaine smiled against the pale hand in spite of his growing problem, squirming his hips as far back as they could get without tumbling off the couch and praying Kurt would be sleepy enough to let it slide if he did notice it.

Kurt sat up and clambered over Blaine clumsily, and, to Blaine's mortification, snickered as their hips bumped.

"Easy, tiger," he taunted, grinning at the way a blush flared on Blaine's cheeks. "C'mon, I need breakfast."

Lifting his upper half off the couch sluggishly, Blaine groaned at the throbbing in his temples.

"God, Kurt, close the blinds, would you? Fuck!"

Kurt laughed, but took mercy on his friend and jerked the blinds closed on his way into the small kitchen.

"Toast and coffee sound good?"

"I'll love you forever," Blaine blurted, and then flushed, trying not to think too much about what he'd just said.

"You already do, Bee. Who else would put up with your insanity, anyway?"

Blaine laughed weakly, stumbling into the kitchen and rubbing his cheek against Kurt's shoulder for a moment before groping for the coffee mugs. If he was ever overly-affectionate with Kurt, the other man seemed to just chalk it up to a mixture of how physical Blaine was in general, and how comfortable their friendship was. Blaine wouldn't tell him that he simply craved the contact.

* * *

"Well, get on with it!"

"What?" Kurt asked innocently, tearing up a piece of toast in an effort to appear emotionless and let out his nervous energy somewhere other than his mouth.

"The gushing!" Blaine cried, waving his arms a little wildly and then wincing at what the movement did to his head. "C'mon, I know you want to. You always want to. Plus, you're mauling your toast, and that means you're anxious about something. So just spill about the fabulous time you had with your awesome boyfriend and I'll sit here like a good best friend and listen happily whilst internally bemoaning my forever alone-ness."

"Not a word, Bee. But you're right. I do sort of want to gush. And maybe rant a little."

"Sorry? Not sure I follow."

There was a pause, and then the dam broke.

"Well, neither do I! I mean, what could he_ possibly_ - how _dare_ he insinuate that I'm cheating on him! So _what_ if I live with another gay guy? You're my _best friend_, and I'm not that person!"

"Whoa, okay. Um. I was sort of expecting the 'candles-and-flowers-and-music-and-mind-blowing-sex' part of the evening," Blaine muttered, and Kurt shot him a withering look.

"Excuse me, but I'm trying to complain here. And since when did I ever tell you about my sex life?"

_I don't want to _hear_ about your sex life, I want to _be_ your sex life._

"You don't have to. Paper mâché walls, remember?"

Kurt winced apologetically. "Sorry. We'll be more careful next time. But still! Blaine, he asked me if there was anything going on between us," Kurt whined, waving his fork at the space between the two of them on the couch. "I mean, how ridiculous is that?"

Blaine flinched a little, studying his eggs, sunny yellow and scrambled to perfection. Only Kurt would know that he refused to eat them any other way...

"Am I really that repulsive?" Blaine chuckled awkwardly, trying for a joke to hide the sting of Kurt's words.

"Oh, sweetie, of course not," Kurt sighed a little patronizingly. "It's just - _you know_," he concluded helplessly.

_Yeah. Yes, I guess I am._

Blaine just shook his head. "Look, Kurt, you're my best friend. I don't ever want to come between you and Adam -" _liar, liar, liar_, "- and I totally wouldn't mind if you wanted to move out. Or if you wanted me to move out or -" _Of course you'd mind, you big fucking idiot. Quit sticking your foot in your mouth. Chivalry is dead anyway, don't even bother trying to defer to what he wants. You pay half the rent anyway._

"Blaine. Shut the hell up. Neither of us is going anywhere. I like Adam, maybe even love him -"

_Ouch._

"- but we're nowhere near the moving-in-with-each-other point, and until that happens, or doesn't, I want to live with my best friend. Okay?"

"Okay," Blaine whispered, suddenly feeling very small and not at all hungry.

* * *

It turned out to be a miserable day in every way possible. What started out as a somewhat pleasant mist had turned into a steady drizzle by the time Blaine's last class got out, and on his way home the sky decided to open up and pour its gloom and gray down onto him and his designer jacket that Kurt had gotten him for his last birthday, and God, way to ruin a leather McQueen.

Then there was that assignment that his Music Theory teacher decided to heap on the class right between two huge tests for the class, not to mention the fact that he got stuck working on it with a flirtatious girl who kept trying to pet his arm and made strange purring sounds in his ear that she probably thought were sexy. (He'd been in that class for two years. Was it not yet obvious that he was gayer than Perez Hilton?)

And when he finally (_finally_!) got home, soaked and shivering and dreading the three weeks working with Alyssa What's-Her-Name, it became very obvious very quickly that Kurt and Adam had decided to make up from that fight about Blaine they'd had the night before.

Loudly.

Groaning, Blaine backed out of the apartment hastily, deciding to spend a couple hours doing homework at the pleasant little cafe with the awesome cannolis halfway between the apartment and campus.

Only when he stepped back out into the rain did he realize he'd forgotten an umbrella.

Feeling about to scream in frustration, Blaine hailed a cab.

And ended up drowning his sorrows in coffee more than getting anything productive done.

One of the baristas at the cafe had taken a liking to Blaine since the first time he and Kurt had found the place. Cecile was a pretty, blonde woman with a heavy New Orleans lilt, and she always gave Blaine a free biscotti to take home and share with Kurt.

"Usual, Blaine?" she asked as soon as he walked through the door, shaking out his escaping curls like a wet dog.

"Please," he replied immediately, and she smiled sympathetically.

"Bad day?"

"The worst. Suckiest day in the history of sucky days," he grumbled and she giggled lightly.

"Oh, poor baby. What happened?"

"Ugh, I won't bore you. Let's just say, even after the worst day ever, I can't even go home and watch Disney movies because Kurt and Adam had a fight and are now very enthusiastically making up."

Cecile made a soft noise of displeasure.

"Kurt's still with that boy? I was so sure they'd be over after a couple of dates," she said, handing him a steaming Medium Drip and the last cannoli in the case saying, "Don't bother paying for the cannoli, honey. That's on me today."

"Thanks Cecile. You're a lifesaver."

"Good. Now go wallow a little and get out of that wet jacket before you catch something on top of everything else, yeah?"

Blaine smiled weakly and dropped down into a seat at his usual table, leaning back in his chair and closing his eyes for a moment. Finally, he dug his Music Theory notebook out of his messenger bag and stared at his scribbled notes from class unseeingly.

Thirty minutes and three badly-formed sentences later, Cecile came out from behind the counter, dropped a kiss on Blaine's cheek and a white paper bag on the table, and said, "Let's hope tomorrow's better. Now, I want you to promise me something, okay Blaine?"

"Sure Cecile," he conceded instantly, tapping his pencil in an unsteady rhythm against the edge of the small circle table and smiling up at her.

Cecile gave him a look that clearly said she thought he'd regret his hasty promise, but continued anyway. "Blaine, if you don't do something about this soon, I guarantee you'll lose him forever. A blind, deaf fool could tell you're in love with Kurt, and you've gotta act on it."

Blaine's breath froze in his lungs. Feeling blindsided and a little dizzy, Blaine shook his head slowly.

"Cecile, I missed so many chances -"

"Then make another."

* * *

**Author's Note: Aaand, here we go! This is where the story really starts, I suppose. By the way, that thing about Blaine and the scrambled eggs...for the longest time, I refused to eat eggs any way other than scrambled. Just a little quirk of mine that somehow worked its way into Blaine's personality here. :) Review!**

**-Av**


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: First off, I want to thank **Sofia Michelle **and **DC World **for their kind reviews, not to mention all those who have favorited/followed this story or myself. I appreciate the support and I'm glad to know that people are enjoying my work! Second, I apologize for the wait. Remember that relationship drama I mentioned last time? Yeah, I had the pleasure of catching my (now ex) boyfriend shoving his tongue down another girl's throat. I was a bit too busy with Ben & Jerry's and RENT to actually write anything. And third, time between my updates may grow eventually due to increased schoolwork and the general pressure of life. It shouldn't be too drastic, but if I mysteriously disappear off the face of the planet for a couple of weeks from time to time, it's nothing to worry about, I'm merely fighting crime...or my Bio homework. :-P**

**This story is AU, but canon up until Original Song save one little detail: Blaine and Kurt are in the same grade. Please note that it is rated M, so there will be some more mature material, but nothing too graphic. If same-sex relationships bother you for any reason, you will not enjoy this. If you are not comfortable reading about topics such as past bullying/violence, past child neglect, or situations of a sexual nature, all dealt with as tastefully as possible and in a non-graphic manner, please do not continue reading.**

**If I haven't scared you off yet, I hope you enjoy my little project here! ;)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own '**_**Glee**_**'. It and any songs/lyrics mentioned belong to their rightful owners, and no copyright infringement is intended.**

**- Av**

* * *

**Post-It Promises  
**

**Chapter Three**

Blaine absolutely was _not_ sick.

It was merely a...minor down-sweep of his energy inconveniently accompanied by the tiniest of tickles in the back of his throat and -

"Blaine! Oh, honey, how many boxes of tissues have you been through?"

Kurt's voice was something between disgusted, sympathetic, and guilty. Blaine thought that the look on his face would be even more amusing, but he couldn't quite bring himself to look. Looking meant lifting his arm from over his eyes and rolling towards the door, and that was simply far too much to ask of a very not-sick person.

"Jus' tho'," he mumbled instead, throwing a hand out and gesturing weakly at the two empty boxes on their sides on the floor and the newly opened one tucked in the crook of his arm.

Kurt stepped further into the room and closed the door behind him, taking in the pathetic scene. The floor around the wastebasket was littered with used tissues that had bounced off the mound of pinkish wads that had formed an uneven dome on the trashcan; the curtains were cracked slightly, and a lazy thread of afternoon sunlight coiled on the windowsill, drifting across the floor and curving up over the bed to pinstripe Blaine's body. The distraught boy was folded in upon himself in the midst of a cocoon of blankets and pillows, his hair a mess of curls that stuck out in all directions where they weren't matted down with sweat and leftover gel and his faded old Dalton Fight Club t-shirt was twisted around his torso.

"Oh, Bee, I'm so sorry! I can't believe you walked all that way in the rain yesterday and - "

"Shh, 'ts 'kay Kur'. 'M fine. Jus' a li'l stuff'd ub."

Kurt giggled at the massacre of a sentence Blaine had managed to deliver and instead of protesting further he slipped out of the room calling, "I'm going to make you some tea for now, okay Bee? Maybe we'll try some soup later."

Blaine gave a noncommittal grunt that raked over his throat like sandpaper and then decided to just be quiet for a while.

Strange concept, quiet. It's usually rather loud in the Hummel-Anderson-Sometimes-Berry apartment.

Kurt returned with a cup of bitter, unpleasant tea that he called "Ecatia" or something and proceeded to all but force it down Blaine's throat. For such cruel and unusual punishment it was done very gently, with lots of cooing and stroking of his hair. Blaine didn't buy the act. His friend was clearly hell-bent on torturing him. That opinion changed quite promptly when Kurt followed the tea with a spoonful of honey that Blaine very willingly let soothe his throat.

"If you can stomach a bit of toast or something then I can give you some Advil. Is your head bothering you?"

"Stob talkin' so loud," Blaine grumbled, and Kurt smirked a little.

"I'll take that as a yes. Think you can manage some toast?"

"Id's a code. Nod the flu. I'b fine," Blaine rolled his eyes, sinking back into the covers and closing his eyes.

Kurt glared a little.

"Fine then. I was only trying to help," Kurt muttered, getting to his feet content with the knowledge that Blaine would melt into a little lost puppy before he even reached the door.

"I'b sorry."

The contrite apology made Kurt soften, and he moved back to climb onto the bed with Blaine.

"It's okay, sweetie. Do you want me to get you that toast and Advil?"

Blaine shook his head. "Cad we jus' cuddle?"

Kurt smiled.

"Of course."

Lying in bed wrapped around each other was not something foreign to the two boys; it had happened so often back in high school that it was more of a comfortable habit to fall back into than anything. The crazy of college and work and life didn't allow much time for the small luxuries of such deep friendship that the two had enjoyed previously, and Kurt was honestly glad for the opportunity. He was willing to admit that he had forgotten a bit just how right it felt to just be with Blaine. Quiet moment and easy interactions were what their relationship was made of, and it seemed that those didn't exist in the city that never sleeps.

Blaine was rubbing his cheek against Kurt's shoulder in a sleepy, dazed manner, and Kurt smiled down at him softly. If Kurt was being honest with himself, his stomach never clenched like this for Adam; his cheeks never heated in a pleasant blush from just one look; his heart never felt like it was being prodded with something cold and metal.

If Kurt was being honest with himself, he could never fully love Adam the way that the other man deserved.

But Kurt could always refuse to be honest with himself.

* * *

The thing about being sick was that just about the only thing Blaine could do with no trouble was think. So he did. A lot.

The thing about Blaine thinking was that he tended to _over _think. Which generally resulted in crazy, stupid ideas, which led to crazy, stupid situations. Crazy, stupid, _embarrassing_ situations. Like the Gap guy. Not his finest moment.

In any case, the last thing Blaine wanted to do was over think the whole Kurt thing once again and screw up irreparably. However, Blaine also came to the conclusion that not making waves just wasn't an option. Whatever he did, however he went about this, he was going to stir up feelings long forgotten and question the way things were now to the point that everyone involved would be extremely vulnerable. There would be matters of trust and full honesty, and there would probably be shouting at some point.

The question was, was Blaine ready to open that Pandora's Box? Was it really worth the pain it could cause, the guilt, the raw openness that this would require?

Blaine didn't want to live the rest of his life with what-ifs. He didn't want to wonder, or play it safe, or continue on keeping secrets and hiding feelings from his best friend.

His part of it, his feelings, and his hopes for an outcome...no, they weren't worth it.

But Kurt. His relationship with Kurt, Kurt as a person, Kurt as the most genuinely _good_ person Blaine had ever met...

Kurt was worth it.

* * *

Blaine couldn't remember the last time the apartment was this quiet. Kurt was in class, and had proclaimed Blaine "still too contagious and definitely not going anywhere" earlier that morning, and Blaine honestly didn't feel like going anywhere anyway. Instead, he allowed himself to lounge in flannel pajama pants and no shirt, eating ice cream and working his way through a billionth tissue box. The easy silence was peaceful, and Blaine found himself relishing it.

Desperate for fresh air but not wishing to actually put on clothes or leave the apartment, Blaine settled for climbing out the window and settling himself on the fire escape with a travel mug of chamomile and Kurt's copy of _Pride and Prejudice_. Flipping through the well-thumbed pages and not really absorbing anything, Blaine trailed his guitar-calloused fingers over the smudged purple-inked notes in the margins, thinking.

Where to even start? Kurt and Adam's relationship had more complexity than any of Kurt's previous ones. Adam was a nice guy, easy to get along with, firm and grounded enough to stand up to Kurt's intense personality, talented and competitive enough to keep Kurt satisfied. But he was also quite simple in the sense that he just wasn't very _passionate_. He didn't throw himself into things like Kurt did, all of his hobbies were precisely that - _hobbies_. For fun. Nothing went much deeper than a detached interest with Adam, and Blaine knew it frustrated Kurt.

The other thing about Adam was that he was possessive. If there was one thing Kurt couldn't stand, it was feeling objectified. He was very much his own person, and if there was the slightest indication that he wasn't, that he belonged to someone, then he was gone. Adam seemed to be a slightly different story, though. Kurt desperately wanted this to work. He was lonely, just as tired of shallow dates and meaningless sex as Blaine was. Adam wasn't perfect for Kurt, but he was close enough that Kurt was willing to settle. For now, at least.

Blaine wasn't going to let him. He and Kurt just fit together. They always had. Blaine had been foolish to think that such a connection would simply disappear. Given time, things like that grow stronger.

* * *

"I have an idea, and I need your help."

Cecile flicked her golden bangs out of wide green eyes and eyed Blaine skeptically.

"I'll have to approve it first," she warned. "I know what your plans are like."

Blaine pouted, toyed with the idea of playing offended, and then decided it would waste too much precious time.

"Okay, okay, whatever you want," he sighed finally.

"Good boy. Now. My shift's over in fifteen minutes. Go eat your treat and do some of that homework you've been putting off and I'll join you once I'm free."

Blaine obeyed, clutching his Medium Drip in one hand and the white paper bag carrying his cookie with the other.

He tried to study, he really did, but with other, much more important things on his mind, the words of his textbook simply blurred together into a frustrating, black-and-white smudged haze. It would be so easy to forget about this whole thing, mope for a few weeks, and try dating again; so easy to allow himself that false hope of love when all he would ever really do is compare every man that came his way to his best friend. But really, it wouldn't. How was that any less difficult than growing a pair and doing something about the highly pathetic situation he had put himself in?

How would things be if he had gotten off his ass and kissed Kurt way back in high school? If he had just asked him on a date, dammit, instead of choking on the words, swallowing them down, and feeling his stomach twist in guilt and self-pity each time? Blinking to clear his vision and re-enter reality, Blaine sighed and stood to pull out Cecile's chair for her as she approached.

"Always such a gentleman," Cecile giggled. "If I wasn't so determined to see you and Kurt together I'd be brainstorming ways to make you straight rather than ways to make you and Kurt fall into each others' arms."

Blaine rolled his eyes but shot her a small, flattered grin.

"You're a sweetheart, Cecile, but I think I'll stick to guys."

Cecile pouted in mock disappointment for a moment before saying, "So. Are you gonna spill this master plan of yours or am I gonna have to pry it out of you?"

Blaine shifted eagerly in his seat and began to talk.

* * *

**Author's Note: So there's part three. I hope you're enjoying so far! The tea Kurt gave Blaine when he was sick is Echinacea, and it was the thing that I dreaded the most when I was little and beginning to get sick. My mom's something of a health nut and it would always be the first thing she gave me if I caught a cold. It. Is. Horrible. :-P**

**I'd also really like to know what you think of Cecile. I'm usually not a huge fan of OCs, but she worked in this case. I didn't really want to involve one of the _'Glee'_ girls for this purpose.**

**- Av**


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: Hello again! Thank you to **Orange-Coyote **for her review. I have to say, I had a little fangirl moment when I saw her name in my inbox, 'cause I adore her stuff. :) And yes, the title has been changed. Just a note. Enjoy!**

**This story is AU, but canon up until Original Song save one little detail: Blaine and Kurt are in the same grade. Please note that it is rated M, so there will be some more mature material, but nothing too graphic. If same-sex relationships bother you for any reason, you will not enjoy this. If you are not comfortable reading about topics such as past bullying/violence, past child neglect, or situations of a sexual nature, all dealt with as tastefully as possible and in a non-graphic manner, please do not continue reading.**

**If I haven't scared you off yet, I hope you enjoy my little project here! ;)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own '**_**Glee**_**'. It and any songs/lyrics mentioned belong to their rightful owners, and no copyright infringement is intended.**

**- Av**

* * *

**Post-It Promises**

**Chapter Four**

The cluttered desk was Blaine's favorite part of the apartment.

They couldn't fit two desks in the space they had without everything feeling cramped, so they stuck to sharing. Kurt's drawers started out well-ordered every year, but they always became messy sometime around October; Blaine's never failed to be disorganized. Well, to Blaine they were organized. He somehow always knew where the object he was searching for was located. But to any normal person, the chaotic jumble of color and paper and the occasional thumbtack looked more like a wastebasket in a kindergarten classroom than a college student's desk.

The thing about the desk, though, was that it was so _theirs_. A yellow notepad with scribbles in both their handwriting - shopping lists, websites, to-dos, and the occasional all-caps note to the other to '_DO THE LAUNDRY, GODDAMMIT! YOUR SOCKS ARE STINKING UP THE WHOLE PLACE._' (Okay, so those were usually from Kurt to Blaine, but still.); a laptop always up and running with one of their iTunes up and playing infinitely; a battered stuffed dog that had taken up residence in a corner of the desk for some reason, it's wide, glassy eyes gazing up at Blaine sorrowfully; a little pad of bright green post-its always on hand; a textbook or two, and the week's essays cluttering everything in flurries of notes and sources and useless, doodled margins.

Blaine remembered his father's desk from his childhood, old and beautifully antique, taken care of so meticulously, just as everything was in their home. Not to be touched by the children, only by Mr. Anderson's careful fingers that never left sticky fingerprints or blemishing marks. The same sterile feel applied to Blaine's entire family life, it seemed. As long as everything looked pristine on the outside, the trueness, the realness, the warmth that was supposed to come from inside didn't matter at all.

His life now was such a contrast to those times, when he wasn't aloud to "act gay" with his family in case someone noticed, where his mother didn't hug him, his father didn't smile at him, every affectionate move was a mechanical motion that was all for show. Perhaps it was why Blaine was so tactile - he had been starved of touch for the majority of his life, and with a friend as touchy as Kurt was, Blaine took all Kurt could give the way a man dying of thirst drank his first glass of water in what felt like forever.

For some reason, the desk had become a symbol of the differences between his two lives. Blaine could remember barely being tall enough to see over the furbished mahogany of the desk in his father's study, peering with wide, curious eyes at his dad working diligently with wide square glasses sliding down his broad nose, the sleeves of his dress shirt rolled up to his elbows, his hairline speckled with gray, his lips set into a severe line and the sternness in his cold hazel eyes as he ordered Blaine away.

All Blaine had wanted was a hero.

* * *

It was the green post-it notes that Blaine held as he sat in the comfortable gray swivel chair (the one Kurt pretended to hate for its lack of ability to look elegant in the midst of any sort of decor), playing his idea over and over in his mind, wondering if this was really such a great plan anyway. Despite Cecile's astonished praise of it - "Oh, Blaine, it's so _romantic_! Why can't a man do that for me?" - time had allowed seeds of doubt to take root firmly in his mind and cloud over every reason he had come up with of why he should absolutely do this right now and don't think just do and never look back and -

Blaine surged forward and grabbed a cheap ballpoint pen.

* * *

Kurt came home to an empty apartment, the windows open and little green sticky notes fluttering in the light, early summer breeze. The first one, on the doorpost, held one word in Blaine's familiar wide, bold scrawl:

**KURT**

Intrigued, the man dropped his leather Prada messenger bag on the couch, peeling the note off the wall and scanning the room. The second was on the coffee table, next to a still-steaming Grande Nonfat Mocha. With a pleased smile at the gesture, Kurt took a careful sip and picked up the second note.

**The first rule of the game is this:**

**DO NOT INDICATE THAT ANYTHING AT ALL IS GOING ON. NOT UNTIL YOU ABSOLUTELY CANNOT BEAR IT ANYMORE.**

Kurt gave that a good-natured grimace; Blaine had to know that Kurt's patience wouldn't hold out long for this type of things. He'd most likely be bursting at the seems by the time he next saw his best friend. A little more eager this time, Kurt's eyes searched hungrily for the next note.

**The second rule of the game is this:**

**DO NOT REPLY TO MY NOTES UNTIL I ASK YOU TO.**

That, Kurt could do. Allowing the notes to come as they did would be easy. Kurt liked these types of things - the shock of discovering something he knew would come without knowing when it would appear. Besides, Blaine seemed to have a specific purpose, something he was working towards, and Kurt didn't want to mess that up for him.

**The third and final rule of the game is this:**

**IF AT ANY POINT YOU WANT IT TO STOP, TELL ME IMMEDIATELY.**

**This is not meant to make you uncomfortable. This is meant to make you think. This is meant to give me a way to say some things I can't say out loud.**

The final post-it was on the kitchen counter along with Blaine's iPod, plugged into a speaker and paused on a song.

**This one, for once, is for me.**

**Remember, COURAGE.**

Kurt picked up the iPod and pressed play.

"_I think I'll be brave_

_Starting with you,_

_But I'll fall away if you tell me to._

_I'd rather be wrong_

_Then hope that I'm not._

'_Cause I can't go on with this all inside._

_I think I'll be brave, _

_And say how I've wanted you..._"

* * *

**Author's Note: I know this one is rather short, especially considering the wait you guys had, but this is how it was planned out, and this is how it'll be. Please leave me a review! See you all next time.**

**The song used in this chapter is "Brave" by Tawgs Salter. **

**- Av**


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: Hey guys! Thanks to **Ionaadsila**, **lovemesomecrazy**, **Orange-Coyote**, and **XxBlackShadowMagicxX **for their reviews. :) Enjoy the (reallyreallysupershortsorry) chapter!**

**This story is AU, but canon up until Original Song save one little detail: Blaine and Kurt are in the same grade. Please note that it is rated M, so there will be some more mature material, but nothing too graphic. If same-sex relationships bother you for any reason, you will not enjoy this. If you are not comfortable reading about topics such as past bullying/violence, past child neglect, or situations of a sexual nature, all dealt with as tastefully as possible and in a non-graphic manner, please do not continue reading.**

**If I haven't scared you off yet, I hope you enjoy my little project here! ;)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own '**_**Glee**_**'. It and any songs/lyrics mentioned belong to their rightful owners, and no copyright infringement is intended.**

**- Av**

* * *

Kurt shouldn't have been excited. He should've been confused and upset and torn and maybe even a little angry.

Kurt was on cloud fucking nine.

The post-it notes. A few simple words, a song, and the knowledge that _Blaine is doing this for ME! _had him in a state of delirium; half guilty, half dreamy, and entirely _not_ how a guy whose best friend is suddenly interested in them (and, oh, did he mention, he's got a boyfriend)...

Kurt could have wondered why it meant so much; he also could have wondered what he was going to do about it (because, eventually, something would _have_ to be done). But for now, he was all too happy to smile serenely at the creepy man on the Subway who smelled like old fish and those citrus Lysol air fresheners that, in all honesty, just smelled like port-a-potty.

He hadn't seen Blaine evening, having fallen asleep before the other man had returned from his semi-steady job playing guitar and singing at a small bar. Blaine had been gone when Kurt got up that morning, but had left him a plate of banana muffins and a green sticky note with a slightly lopsided smiley face drawn in the middle and nothing else.

Kurt shook himself out of his own head as the train slowed. Kurt hailed a taxi once he was off the Subway and entered the Vogue building walking on air.

* * *

Blaine tapped his pencil against his notebook, casting frequent, agitated glances at Little Miss Cleavage, who clearly couldn't take a hint. Alyssa gave him a Cheshire grin and leaned across the small table, effectively spilling her..._assets_ everywhere. Blaine pursed his lips and stared determinedly at a spot above her left shoulder.

"Blaine? _Blaaaainey_?"

Blaine sighed.

"Sorry, what?"

"So, I was thinking we could introduce the concept of..."

Blaine drifted off again, tapping the margins of his notebook full of little gray smudges. Kurt would be entering the Vogue building right about now...Kurt would be taking the elevator to check in with his boss...Kurt would be discussing the day's agenda with Isabelle...Kurt would be heading to his office...

Blaine cut off his train of thought promptly, feeling his throat close up. Okay, so maybe he _had_ been somewhat avoiding his best friend, but he really just wanted to give Kurt a chance to think about the post-its a little without any of his direct influence, or...or something. _Really_. Sighing, Blaine did his best to dig a hole in the wall above Alyssa's shoulder from ten or so feet away, knowing that, no matter how much he wanted to hand the girl his jacket and tell her to keep it until she had something more decent to wear, he really should be listening to her ideas. Alyssa actually _did_ know what she was talking about, and he was sure that he would quite enjoy working with someone with her brainpower and knowledge...if only she would start wearing a bra and maybe try doing up more than three of her blouse buttons.

"...And then there would be an elephant in a custom-made pink glow-in-the-dark thong and maybe some belly dancers and -"

"_What_?" Okay, Blaine had to admire her spunk.

Alyssa shrugged and shot him a smug look.

"Look, Alyssa, I'm sorry," Blaine sighed. "I know I'm distracted today, I've just got a lot on my mind."

The look on Alyssa's face immediately turned into something a lot more predatory.

"Girl troubles?" she cooed with a coy slither in her words that hinted an ulterior motive.

Blaine groaned under his breath. It was going to be a long day.

* * *

Kurt dropped his messenger bag on a chair in a corner of his office and settled down at his desk, which was much more cluttered than he would _ever_ prefer it to be. Sifting through papers for the new file Isabelle said had been dropped off at his desk, Kurt noticed a small paper bag out of the corner of his eye. Putting the retrieved file down, Kurt noticed the bright green note stapled to the top of the brown bag where the opening had been folded over.

**KURT**

**Enjoy your lunch. You never eat enough. :)**

**Now, get to work Hummel! (And check that file.)**

Giggling, Kurt tore the staple off of the bag and moaned a little as the thick, rich scent of still-warm bagels drifted down his throat and settled in his belly. Lifting one out, he tore a piece off and popped it in his mouth, licking the poppy seeds off his fingers and turning back to the file, giddy with the prospect of his next note.

**Reason #1 That I Am In Love with Kurt Hummel:**

**Your work ethic.**

**You never back down from a challenge, you grab every opportunity, and when doors don't appear, you knock that wall (the one your father is so fond of) out by yourself. **

Kurt's breath caught over the words that he read aloud, tumbling and whooshing and fighting to leave his body. The note fluttered back down to rest upon the file.

_I am in love with Kurt Hummel_.

He should have expected it after the first round of notes.

But still. He could never have expected it.

* * *

Kurt thought about it all day.

Kurt didn't say a word about it when he met Adam for dinner.

Not even when Adam begged him to move out of the apartment with Blaine.

Not even when he refused.

Not when they had a shouting match outside the restaurant.

Not when Blaine met him at the door of their apartment, not when Blaine asked why he was soaking wet and crying, not when Blaine cursed loudly and threatened Adam's necessary appendages, not when they fell asleep tangled together on the couch with _When Harry Met Sally_ playing unwatched on Blaine's laptop.

Kurt didn't tell Blaine to stop the notes.

Kurt did brush Blaine's cheek with a kiss, dangerously close to his lips, and whisper, "Why are you doing this to me?"

He thought about the note, and for the first time, he thought about the reason Blaine had given.

_Okay. I can do this. Challenge accepted._

* * *

**Author's Note:** **I would love it if you would review. :) **

**- Av**


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note: Thanks to **TWardFan**, **rinswan**, **Bluethunder5494**, **thomasinacoverly**, **Londoner2012**, **Ionaadsila**, **Orange-Coyote**,** **and** Darla (Guest) **for their lovely reviews.** **Sorry for my short chapters; I'll try to make them longer. :) Here's the next one. A little Blaine backstory in this chapter. **

**This story is AU, but canon up until Original Song save one little detail: Blaine and Kurt are in the same grade. Please note that it is rated M, so there will be some more mature material, but nothing too graphic. If same-sex relationships bother you for any reason, you will not enjoy this. If you are not comfortable reading about topics such as past bullying/violence, past child neglect, or situations of a sexual nature, all dealt with as tastefully as possible and in a non-graphic manner, please do not continue reading.**

**If I haven't scared you off yet, I hope you enjoy my little project here! ;)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own '**_**Glee**_**'. It and any songs/lyrics mentioned belong to their rightful owners, and no copyright infringement is intended.**

**- Av**

* * *

**Post-It Promises**

**Chapter Six**

"I did it."

"Your enthusiasm is palpable."

Blaine gave Cecile a deadpan look and snatched the cinnamon shaker from the counter, prying the lid off his coffee.

"I'm not convinced that this whole thing wasn't a horrible, horrible mistake that'll just blow up in my face and ruin the best friendship I've ever had."

"I know," Cecile replied succinctly. "You don't have to be. You just have to _pretend_ to be, Mr. Drama Student."

Blaine rolled his eyes. "Please. Kurt's the drama student, I'm just in it for the music."

Cecile smiled. "Then," she breathed, leaning across the counter to hand him his biscotti and tap his nose with one slender, manicured finger, "don't forget to use the music, sweetheart."

* * *

_From: Blaine(:_

_1:03pm_

_You know the place with the awesome cannolis?_

_From: Blaine(:_

_1:03pm_

_Go there._

_From: Blaine(:_

_1:04pm_

_And remember the first rule of the game._

Kurt took the final text to mean, "Don't you dare text me back, Hummel" and obeyed.

* * *

"Well well well, look what the cat dragged in!"

"Hey, Cecile. It's great to see you again," Kurt smiled.

"Been too busy with that boy of yours to come bicker with Blainers over the calories in chocolate chip cookies and whose turn it really is to pay?" Cecile said with a pointed arch of one eyebrow and the smallest of knowing smiles lurking deviously at the corners of her lips.

_Oh, I see how it is now. She's in on this whole thing._

Kurt kept an easy smile on his face as guilt gnawed on his stomach. _What the hell are you doing, Kurt?_

_You never did know what you were doing, really._

_But guess who was always by your side while you figured it out?_

_Blaine._

_And guess who wasn't?_

_Don't say it -_

"That and my classes at NYADA seem to be trying harder to send me to the hospital than they are to get me to Broadway. And I'm practically living out _Devil Wears Prada_ these days at work," Kurt answered finally, realizing he was babbling a little but more concerned about the coming green note to care.

Cecile gave him one of her silver chime giggles anyway and winked at him.

"Oh, honey, I'm sure Isabelle is nicer than that awful Meryl Streep!"

Kurt chuckled politely, then said, "Now, I was ordered to come here by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Should I be concerned about my calorie intake?"

"Ooh, I forgot, this whole thing is very clandestine and secretive, isn't it? Well, Blaine knows your weaknesses, so I'm sorry to say your waistline is in grave danger, hun," Cecile said, reaching under the counter and placing a plastic container bearing a green post-it in front of Kurt before giving him a little two-fingered wave and prancing off to wipe down tables.

Kurt looked down at the cannoli and the note and decided that he needed some air.

* * *

Kurt placed the container down next to him on the black bench he had chosen, taking off his leather gloves and picking up the note that he had avoided looking at for the past twenty minutes.

**Reason #2 That I Am In Love With Kurt Hummel:**

**Your eyes.**

**The first thing I noticed about you when you tapped me on the shoulder that day at Dalton was the way your eyes could just read my soul. I thought you were the most beautiful creature I had ever seen. I still do. I hope I haven't lost any chance I ever had with you...but I don't care anymore. I can't hide from you anymore. Your eyes never let me anyway.**

**(Oh, and don't even pretend you don't want the cannoli.)**

* * *

Blaine had already established that he was no longer holding back - not one bit. In all honesty, holding back had become a habit in every aspect of his life save performing.

* * *

**Summer 2006**

"_How could you say something like that in front of my coworkers, Blaine? They'll think you're some sort of - of - _fag_."_

"_Dad - Dad, please don't say -"_

"_You can't be gay, Blaine. You're my son. No son of mine can be gay."_

"_Please Dad -"_

"_No. This conversation is over. You will take Sylvia and Eric's daughter out on a date. Do you understand me?"_

"_Yes, Dad."_

* * *

_Jess was a sweetheart. She accepted the offer for a date, but when the night came and they climbed into Blaine's car after the movie, she took Blaine's hand in both of hers and said, "I like you, Blaine, but I know you're gay."_

_Blaine stammered and gestured his way through a desperate explanation as Jess rubbed his back soothingly. When he broke down right there in the middle of the movie theater parking lot, she gathered him in her arms and petted his hair and cooed in his ear, assuring him that it was okay and she understood and she wouldn't breathe a word of it to anyone. He took her home; she kissed his cheek; they saw each other every few weeks, and Blaine's father was thrilled with the end of his son's supposed phase._

_Jess couldn't carry a tune to save her life, but she loved Blaine's music and would beg him to sing for her. Blaine wrote her a song, and the day he played it for her was the last day he ever saw her._

_Blaine and Jess were sitting across from each other on Blaine's bed, their legs crossed and Blaine's songbook between them._

"_I wrote one for you," Blaine commented as Jess flipped through the book. Jess' whole body jerked as she looked up at him._

"What_? Why haven't I heard this?"_

"_Well, I just finished brushing it up yesterday. Would you like me to play it for you?"_

_Jess shot him a, _Well, duh!_ look and Blaine smiled simply, retrieving his guitar from it's current place leaning against the side of his bed._

_The melody was simple and moderately-paced, and the tune gathered in his fingers to infuse the strings. _

"_Wake up, I'm lonely, let's talk about how we_

_Love to talk on the telephone_

_We would hang up and go back to absolutely nothing_

_and by absolutely nothing I mean pick up the phone._

_The sun is out, the moon is smiling_

_In the corner of his eye he's crying _

_For his next new arrival for the rest of the night._

_Good ol' moon is like me,_

_We want free but we're stuck in here._

_I'll pick up the comics and sympathize with Linus_

_And the z's that Dagwood leaves behind._

_As for me, I wouldn't mind just to join him along._

_I mean, just look at these two pictures can you tell me what's wrong. _

_The sun is out, the moon is smiling_

_In the corner of his mind he's timing his_

_Next new arrival for the rest of the night._

_Good ol' moon is like me,_

_We want free but we're stuck in here._

_No more pain for a while,_

_You and I could sit in the sun and smile._

_Maybe then, we'd be friends, yeah,_

_The moon, sun, and me,_

_And we could sing together in perfect harmony._

_Doo doo doo doo doo doo doo doo doo_

_No more pain for a while,_

_You and I could sit in the sun and smile._

_Maybe then, we'd be friends, yeah_

_The moon, sun, and me,_

_And we could sing together in perfect harmony._

_Doo doo doo doo doo doo. Oh!_

_Wake up, I'm lonely, let's talk about how we_

_Need to find a better dream,_

_'Cause it's getting much darker the sun is worn out_

_And I think it's time for you and I to get some sleep. _

_Oh, the moon is out, the sun is trying_

_Not to look upset, but man he's dying for his_

_Next new arrival for the rest of the night._

_Good ol' moon is like me,_

_We want free_

_Good ol' moon is like me,_

_We want free_

_Good ol' moon is like me,_

_We want free, but we're stuck in here..."_

_Jess' wide, pretty smile grew throughout the song. _

"_Oh, Blainers, it's beautiful," she sighed as the final chords faded. "I love it. I love you. You know that, right?"_

"_I love you too, Jess," Blaine said quietly, putting his guitar aside and leaning forward to wrap her in a hug._

* * *

_Downstairs, Anthony Anderson sat at his grand old desk shuffling papers with a small frown creasing his forehead. His son appeared in the doorway, hovering nervously._

"_Well, come in Blaine. Did Jess leave?"_

"_Yeah, I just showed her out. Dad, I wanted to - to talk to you. About Jess."_

"_What's that? Need some advice?" Anthony asked, plucking his glasses off his nose and setting them on his file, leaning back in his chair and facing his son with a smile on his face. The look was foreign to Blaine. "Now, with a girl like Jess, aren't you glad you got over that silly phase of yours?" he chuckled._

_Blaine flinched. "Dad - Jess and I aren't dating. It wasn't a phase, I -"_

_The smile was gone in an instant, and all that showed were frown lines. The harsh disapproval in Anthony's eyes was clear._

"_Now, Blaine. I've told you before, and I'll tell you again - I will not have a faggot as a son!"_

_There was a swish of long chestnut hair and long mint green sundress as Jess marched into the room, past Blaine, and up to Mr. Anderson. She glared at him harshly._

_SLAP!_

_Her small hand collided with his cheek sharply._

_Blaine leaned against the wall, stunned. _

"_Jess -"_

"_I came back because I forgot my Biology binder in Blaine's room. I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but I couldn't help but overhear you call your son a disgusting name, and though I'm no parenting expert, I will stick up for my friends - no matter _who_ I have to stand up to. Have a good day!" she chirped before flouncing out, pausing only to kiss Blaine on the cheek._

* * *

_Blaine was forbidden to speak to Jess. He recorded her song and burned it onto a disk. On the last night of summer, he left it on her doorstep._

* * *

Blaine had always held his tongue, kept his peace, acted in secret and in silence for his own causes while outwardly obeying his father, catering to his wishes, always trying to make up for the shortcomings Anthony saw in his son, but still the disappointment.

Performing was his outlet; Blaine didn't know how to go all out when he wasn't on stage.

Now all he had to do was find a stage.

* * *

Kurt folded the sticky note carefully into quarters and slipped it into the pocket of his skinny jeans, and tried not to think what he wanted to.

_I love Adam. _

_I love Adam._

_I love Adam._

_...I never loved Adam._

_Not the way I have always loved Blaine._

* * *

_From: Blaine(:_

_4:16pm_

_I'm performing at Hole in the Wall tomorrow at 9. Come watch?_

_To: Blaine(:_

_4:17pm_

_Wouldn't miss it. :)_

* * *

**Author's Note: The End! Just kidding. I wouldn't do that to you. We've got a ways to go, my friends! Carry on bravely! :-P**

**The song used in this chapter is "Good Ol' Moon" by Darren Criss.**

**- Av**


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note: Thanks to **klaineygirl**, **Ionaadsila**, and **OfMusicAndStories** for their reviews and sorry for the long wait, but it's April Vaca right now so I had some spare time to write. Unfortunately, as soon as I return to school I'll be focusing on big end-of-the-year projects and preparations for finals, so I'll be really busy then. I'm going to try for one more chapter this week, though. And, hey - BIIIG DEVELOPMENT CHAPTER, GUYS. Are you proud of me? ^.^**

**This story is AU, but canon up until Original Song save one little detail: Blaine and Kurt are in the same grade. Please note that it is rated M, so there will be some more mature material, but nothing too graphic. If same-sex relationships bother you for any reason, you will not enjoy this. If you are not comfortable reading about topics such as past bullying/violence, past child neglect, or situations of a sexual nature, all dealt with as tastefully as possible and in a non-graphic manner, please do not continue reading.**

**If I haven't scared you off yet, I hope you enjoy my little project here! ;)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own '**_**Glee**_**'. It and any songs/lyrics mentioned belong to their rightful owners, and no copyright infringement is intended.**

**- Av**

* * *

**Post-It Promises**

**Chapter Seven**

Kurt knew it was a stupid idea the second it crossed his mind, but it was also a defensive measure. So, of course, he did it anyway.

Adam wrapped an arm around Kurt's waist as they entered the crowded, smoky bar. He was possessive, a trait that Kurt had once classified as 'sweet and attentive' but now annoyed him to no end.

Kurt squirmed under Adam's arm, but it was difficult to gain any sort of personal space in the room, which seemed bursting at the seams with people, energy, and music. The tension in Kurt's stomach grew steadily, but he kept his face blank as he approached Rachel and her casual boyfriend, Brody. (Casual, perhaps, in the sense that they weren't exactly exclusive; then again, nothing about Rachel Berry's relationships was ever anything but dramatic.)

"Kurt!" Rachel squealed, throwing herself at him and giggling into his shoulder. "Kurt, I'm so glad you came, you never come to any of Blaine's things anymore, and we _never_ get to see each other -"

Kurt suppressed an annoyed sigh and gave his tipsy friend a squeeze.

"Yeah, Rach, good to see you. Hopefully my schedule will clear up a bit soon though," he added. "I miss you too."

Rachel just gazed at him with a slightly dopey smile and nodded before winding herself effectively around Brody, who looked pretty pleased with the attention. At that moment, a voice at the edge of the group called, "There you are guys!" and Blaine appeared, bouncing on the balls of his feet, his curls completely free of gel and falling over his forehead. Rachel giggled at him and released Brody to octopus around Blaine's body, tugging at a curl and mumbling to herself.

Blaine looked at Kurt helplessly, patting Rachel awkwardly on the back. "She's drunk already?"

"M'not drunk," Rachel protested loudly.

"Okay," Blaine agreed quickly, sharing an amused smile with Brody.

"Here dude, I'll take her," the other man offered, and Rachel was passed off to her boyfriend once again.

"When are you on?" Kurt asked as he hugged Blaine in greeting.

"It'll be another few minutes. Last-minute setup and all. Some idiot forgot to replace the batteries in my mic."

"_Some_ idiot," Kurt agreed sarcastically, rolling his eyes at his friend. Adam's fingers dug into his waist. It was at that moment that Blaine seemed to notice Kurt's boyfriend. It was also at that moment that Kurt knew just how big of a mistake it had been to invite him.

"Hey Adam. Good to see you again," Blaine said easily, but there was something in his voice that made Kurt's breath freeze and his heart hurt.

"You too Blaine," Adam replied neutrally, smiling at Blaine with the slightest hint of suspicion. "Break a leg," he added good-naturedly, seeming to shrug off his jealousy for long enough to pat Blaine on the arm.

Kurt almost reached out to draw Blaine into another hug, but then Adam was there and Blaine wasn't and Kurt knew that the guilty, torn feeling in the pit of his stomach would be sticking around.

* * *

Blaine's setlist made it perfectly clear that this was, in fact, a part of his post-it note game.

Okay, maybe not the _entire_ setlist. More like just that one song. That one song that Blaine sang directly to him, shameless and blatant and not caring at all that he was putting everything out there for Kurt to do what he pleased with even though Kurt was certain that Blaine was certain that the notes didn't matter anymore because _he had brought Adam_. That one song that made Kurt want to cry and laugh and either kiss Blaine or hate him for doing this.

The bar was clearly built for acoustics. Blaine's voice was everywhere, in and around and all over them, washing through the audience and drawing them into his soul. Kurt was breathing him in, and though they were separated by people and tables and Adam, Kurt had never felt that he had understood Blaine better than he did when he was singing that song.

"_Breathe in, breathe out, _

_Tell me all of your doubts,_

_And everybody bleeds this way,_

_Just the same._

_Breathe in, breathe out,_

_Move on and break down,_

_If everybody goes away_

_I will stay._

_We push and pull,_

_And we fall down sometimes_

_But I'm not letting go,_

_You hold the other line._

'_Cause there is a light_

_In your eyes_

_In your eyes_

_There is a light_

_In your eyes_

_In your eyes._

_Breathe in and breathe out._

_Breathe in and breathe out._

_Breathe in and breathe out._

_Breathe in and breathe out._

_Look left, look right, _

_To the moon in the night._

_Everything under the stars _

_Is in your arms._

'_Cause there is a light_

_In your eyes_

_In your eyes_

_There is a light_

_In your eyes_

_In your eyes._

'_Cause there is a light_

_In your eyes_

_In your eyes_

_There is a light_

_In your eyes_

_In your eyes..._"

The song died out with Blaine's hope, and Kurt could feel it.

* * *

The tiny back room that the manager jokingly called the green room (as it was where he stuck the night's performers when they weren't onstage) was stifling with the buzz of energy and the damp, musky smell of sweat. Blaine sat on one of the couches, his chin in his hands and his guitar in its case at his feet. His temples were throbbing and his throat was dry, but he usually enjoyed every part of the first hour or so post-performance. This time, however, he couldn't ignore the slight headache or the way each breath only seemed to drag more moisture from his throat. Taking a deep swig from his water bottle, Blaine silently berated himself for deluding himself enough to be even vaguely encouraged by Kurt's lack of negative response to the notes.

Obviously, he just felt it would be too awkward to ask Blaine to stop.

Or something.

* * *

"Great job, Kurt."

"Shut up, Rachel. You were too drunk to remember most of it."

Rachel paused long enough to extract her head from Kurt and Blaine's fridge and shoot Kurt a look dripping in condescension before turning back to her pursuit of leftover curry. "Well, I remember Adam being there, and I remember quite clearly the look on Blaine's face when he saw Adam, and I _certainly_ remember the panicked rant about the whole situation you delivered at stupid-o'clock this morning," Rachel lectured sternly, digging a spoon into the plastic Tupperware of cold yellow curry and stuffing it in her mouth, somehow still managing to look prim and perfectly poised.

Kurt just stared at her blankly.

"Do you think the fact that Blaine didn't come home last night says something?"

"Kurt." Rachel uttered her friend's single-syllable name with dangerous preciseness, shaking the spoon at him with a half-amused, half-furious, slightly-crazed look on her face, "the fact that Blaine did not come home last night and still is not home at noon today and is not answering his cell and did not even talk to you after the show says _absolutely everything_.Now. We're going to play a little game that I like to call, "Why the Fuck Am I With Him Again?" and you are going to make a decision before you end up losing one or both of them forever. Understand?"

Kurt sank down into an armchair in the open living room, wishing the cushions would just swallow him whole.

"Fine."

"Kurt..."

The usually so pulled-together man looked up, meeting her eyes. The dishevelled aspect to him didn't show in his appearance - he was dressed to the nines as usual, and neatly coiffed. The wear-and-tear of the past few days was apparent in his eyes, bright with worry and confusion and a torn sort of misery.

"Kurt, I want you to do something that I would ordinarily never do, because you know that I fully appreciate the fact that everyone is their own person and nobody should go by what someone else is like, but - but this is different. This is _Blaine_."

Kurt's gaze never left Rachel's.

"You want me to compare Blaine and Adam, don't you?"

"I want you to compare them to what you want."

Kurt's eyes dropped to his hands, fingers twisted together in his lap. He didn't want to do that, because he knew what the result would be. The thing that confused him the most was that he had _always_ known the result, and he knew what he wanted now, but he just couldn't bring himself to be _that guy_. The guy who breaks up with his significant other for the person they've always wanted because they're suddenly available and interested, and goddammit, if Blaine was so interested then why didn't he just say so all those years ago in the Lima Bean?

_You wouldn't have wanted to be his rebound from Mr. Gap Guy Closeted McGayHair. _He_ didn't want you to be his rebound._

Then what about all those other countless opportunities he had? Blaine wasn't shy, and the excuse of "I don't want to screw this up" got seriously lame sometime around the one-year-of-best-friendship-and-approximately-thre e-fights mark. Or really, anytime that it occurred to either of them that if they were in a relationship it would only really add kissing and sex to their friendship, because they had pretty much been quasi-dating since about ten seconds after they met. And all the times they expressed such notions to each other laughingly, teasingly, and usually slightly intoxicated. Because to bring up such things without the influence of alcohol broke every unuttered rule they had ever unconsciously but unequivocally set in place for the boundaries of their friendship (which were few, but explicit).

But really, that was off-topic. The fact was that Kurt was with Adam and he_ did_ love Adam. Loved him enough to settle for him...

Then came the nasty, probing little thought that pretty much threw everything to hell.

_You love Blaine enough not to settle. _

Because being with Blaine was the ultimate. Being with Blaine would never be settling.

Which meant that he was about to initiate a very painful, very messy breakup, and that if he wanted to keep (and truly have) his best friend, he would have to do it very quickly.

* * *

When Rachel left for Brody's, Kurt took a walk. A long walk, which really didn't help clear up his thoughts so much as allow him to focus on the little distracting things like the way the broad green maple leaves shaded the grass, dappling it with sunlight and dancing shadows. Or the cute, broad doggy smile on a Yellow Lab's face as he barreled through Central Park at full-speed, chasing after a tennis ball and being chased by his significantly smaller owner.

He hadn't expected Blaine to be home when he got back, but the door to the musician's room was closed and an instrumental track was playing, obviously in progress for a recording.

Kurt paused for a moment, listening to the beat of drums that carried through the song. Wandering towards Blaine's door, he wondered if he should interrupt; they had to talk at some point, of course, but Blaine hated being interrupted when he was recording. Before he could debate any further, Kurt was stopped up short by the green sticky note on Blaine's door.

**KURT**

**I understand. I can't stop now, though.**

**Reason #3 That I Am In Love With Kurt Hummel:**

**His compassion. **

**You are the kindest, gentlest, most caring person I have ever met. Your heart is so big, Kurt. And somehow, for some reason, you still put up with me. Even through all this.**

**Now, I know you want to knock. But please don't. Just listen. I'll apologize later.**

Kurt could've cried. After all this, _Blaine_ was going to apologize, but even now that wasn't what Kurt wanted. He didn't want Blaine to close off again, to be sorry for putting this out there, for sharing his heart and giving Kurt just a glimpse of what had been going on in his mind for all those years. He didn't want _either_ of them to have to apologize for any part of this. He just wanted it to be simpler for them both.

Still staring at the post-it with tear-fogged eyes, Kurt took in a deep breath and focused on the noises coming from the room, realizing that Blaine was singing now.

"_It's one hundred and nine degrees in this crowded room,_

_No room to breathe_

_With walls as cold as a gallery_

_This is no place for me._

_Such hard faces set in smoke_

_The smell lingers in my clothes _

_It's a bad night to be alone_

_But that's the way it goes_

_And I think of you_

_Whenever life gets me down_

_I think of you_

_Whenever you're not around_

_And you rest your bones_

_Somewhere far from my own _

_But you still pull me home..._"

Kurt recognized the song easily. Blaine's taste in music was broad, and Kurt soon realized that he didn't mind having any of Blaine's eclectic collection blasting through the house. The had some similar likes and dislikes when it came to style and artists, but in all honesty, Kurt had never heard of at least half of the albums that Blaine had stacked in shelves in his room.

This was one of Blaine's favorites. The warm lilt of the singer's voice was melancholy and comforting at the same time, and the words were poetry just as much as they were lyrics.

"_...Just to put your mind at ease_

_You don't owe me anything_

_You've paid me well in memories_

_And I think of you_

_Whenever life gets me down_

_I think of you_

_Whenever you're not around_

_And you rest your bones_

_Somewhere far from my own_

_But you still pull me home_

_You still pull me home_

_You still pull me home..._"

It was then that Kurt realized what Blaine was trying to say through the song and the latest post-it. He thought that Adam was Kurt's form of a rejection. He was reassuring Kurt that he wasn't angry, that they were still the closest of friends, that nothing would change except for Kurt's knowledge that Blaine would always, always love him in a way deeper and more intimate than he thought Kurt ever could.

Kurt had two long conversations to have with two important people, and he had to have them before he lost his nerve along with everything else he had always wanted.

* * *

**Author's Note: I hope that was up to par! I don't want to be disappointing anyone. :) The story is going to progress fairly quickly from here, and it will get a bit heavier (especially when Kurt and Blaine finally talk) before it gets fluffy and light. :)**

**The songs used in this chapter are "Breathe in Breathe Out" by Mat Kearney and "Think of You" by A Fine Frenzy. I strongly encourage you to check them out; especially "Think of You". It's one of my favorites. ;)**

**- Av**


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note: Hey guys! Obviously I didn't manage to get this posted as soon as I had thought, and I'm sorry for that. Things are picking up at school and I have three major essays, two huge projects, two quizzes, and then the general prep for finals. I'm actually pretty proud of myself for getting this done as soon as I did. :) Hope you all enjoy! A thank-you and a great big cyber-hug to **Ionaadsila**,** EleanorJanis**, and **Orange-Coyote **for their kind reviews. I now have over 20 reviews, over 25 story favorites, and over 100 story follows, not to mention all the people who have followed/faved me as an author. This is way more than I expected when I began writing this, so thank you all so much for the encouragement, whether it was a few kind words or the click of a button. :)**

**This story is AU, but canon up until Original Song save one little detail: Blaine and Kurt are in the same grade. Please note that it is rated M, so there will be some more mature material, but nothing too graphic. If same-sex relationships bother you for any reason, you will not enjoy this. If you are not comfortable reading about topics such as past bullying/violence, past child neglect, or situations of a sexual nature, all dealt with as tastefully as possible and in a non-graphic manner, please do not continue reading.**

**If I haven't scared you off yet, I hope you enjoy my little project here! ;)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own '**_**Glee**_**'. It and any songs/lyrics mentioned belong to their rightful owners, and no copyright infringement is intended.**

**- Av**

* * *

**Post-It Promises**

**Chapter Eight**

"I bet he hates me for this."

"I bet you're overreacting."

"I bet you're wrong."

"I bet I'm not."

Blaine stopped himself from retorting and narrowed his eyes at Cecile in a glare.

"Blaine."

"Cecile."

The woman sighed and leaned forward to grasp Blaine's hand on the counter.

"You told him in your last note that you couldn't stop now?"

Blaine nodded miserably, squinting at Cool Beans' specials menu in an effort to breathe through the lump in his throat. His eyes watered and his chest ached as Cecile squeezed his fingers comfortingly.

"Then don't stop. You still have quite a bit to tell him, don't you?"

Blaine didn't really need to answer, so he said nothing. Instead, he grabbed the pad of sticky notes from his pocket and asked to borrow a pen.

* * *

Kurt hadn't slept much in the two nights since Blaine's gig. His mind spilled over with the sort of abstract thoughts that didn't make much sense when you focused on them but filled your stomach with dread nevertheless.

It was too hot out. Mid-June heat stuffed his throat and thickened his tongue. Swallowing felt like trying to ingest cotton and sweat dampened his hairline. At this point, hovering anxiously outside Adam's dorm, he wondered if it was really just the heat or if they were symptoms of his nerves.

He was going to break up with Adam. Sweet, gentle Adam who was everything that Kurt wanted in theory yet nothing he needed compared to Blaine. Blaine, who thought Kurt was angry with him. Blaine, who thought he had screwed up. Blaine, who cared enough, who was in enough emotional turmoil to place his heart in Kurt's hands and wait patiently for it to be broken.

The building was even more invasively hot than outside. Every window had been thrown open, but it didn't seem to be doing much other than allowing the warm air to circulate throughout the hall. Adam's door was propped open with a circular floor fan, and a Scouting for Girls song spilled through the door and mixed with the heated air.

Adam himself was sprawled on the floor surrounded by textbooks and pieces of notebook paper torn out with a few sentences scribbled and crossed out on each. The window was thrown open as far as it could go. The blonde was tapping the toes of his right foot against the floor in the rhythm of the music, lying on his stomach and nibbling at the end of his pencil with a slight frown creasing his forehead. Kurt took a moment to swallow the painful knot that had formed in his throat and appreciate how simply handsome Adam looked with his sandy bangs flopping over his brow and his long lashes curving in the hollow just above his cheekbones when he blinked.

Clarity crashed over Kurt as a harsh dose of reality: He could be so happy with Adam. So happy on that superficial level that was all anyone ever seemed to care about. They fit together well, they complimented each other, they were a good match. An easy match. The obvious one to make.

He and Blaine were _right_. They were intense and passionate and sweet and physical and raw and everything that Kurt absolutely, beyond a shadow of a doubt _needed_.

The realization left Kurt wide-eyed and breathless and suddenly devoid of hesitation.

"Adam," Kurt said quietly, hesitating in the doorway, tapping his knuckles gently on the frame.

Adam's head snapped up and he dropped his pencil, scrambling to his feet with a gleeful smile on his face.

"Kurt! Hi honey."

Kurt shivered as the endearment only added to the leaden feeling in his stomach. Adam pecked Kurt's lips, and Kurt allowed him to, feeling like a liar.

Unsure of how to begin the conversation, Kurt took Adam's hand and led him to sit on the edge of the (unmade, Kurt noted with a slight shake of his head) bed.

"Uh-oh," Adam chuckled. "What's up, Kurt?"

Kurt smiled shakily and dipped his head to focus on his hands in his lap.

"Adam."

Two pairs of blue eyes met, one clear and pale as water, the second intricately laced with greens and greys and violets. Suddenly, Kurt was no longer in control of his emotions, and the tears spilled over. Adam knew immediately.

"We're breaking up, aren't we?"

Kurt choked on his breath. Adam opened his arms and Kurt leaned into them, pressing his cheek to Adam's chest.

"I love you," he offered through his sobs as Adam sagged against Kurt, cradling him and using him as support at the same time.

"I know," Adam breathed, his own tears making sticky tracks down his cheeks. "I know, I know."

* * *

They talked for nearly two hours. When he left, Kurt felt as though he was closer to Adam then he had been at any point in their relationship. They parted as friends, with the agreement to take some time to themselves and heal a little.

Adam had guessed immediately that Blaine was the reason. Kurt explained carefully, and though Adam was hurt and a little angry at Kurt's friend, he wished them the best. He had always sort of figured that if it weren't for their shared attraction to Kurt, he and Blaine would've been fast friends.

Kurt felt lighter than he had in ages, his shoulders lifted back and the bounce in his steps no longer forced. A slow grin dimpled the corners of his mouth, and he found himself looking forward to whatever would come next.

As it so happened, what came next was a new post-it note.

The green paper stood out against the outside of the door to his and Blaine's apartment. Tearing it off as his smile made his face ache and a giggle bubbled in his chest. Eyes shining, Kurt let himself in and was greeted with an empty (and mercifully air conditioned) apartment.

He hadn't seen Blaine since the previous morning, which had been painfully awkward - a mumbled round of 'Have a good day', an apologetic smile from each of them, and the sight of Blaine's hazel eyes glazed with unshed tears burned into Kurt's mind as the latest of his regrets.

Blaine was obviously avoiding him, and Kurt couldn't really blame him.

Grabbing an apple from the kitchen and plopping down on the couch, Kurt finally allowed himself to look at the note clutched between his fingers.

**Reason #4 That I Am In Love With Kurt Hummel:**

**Your voice.**

**It's enchanting and unique and so passionate and intricate. How anyone could've taunted you for it, I can't understand. You don't sound girly; you sound angelic. Ethereal. Hear for yourself - my iPod is on the kitchen counter. Your lunch and your midday caffeine fix courtesy of Cecile from Cool Beans are in the fridge.**

**Now go eat.**

Kurt discovered a turkey avocado sandwich in the fridge next to a tall iced mocha. Grinning, Kurt set them on the small kitchen table and reached for Blaine's iPod.

Unlocking the device, Kurt sank into one of the chairs and reached for his coffee, but nearly spilled it when he saw what was up on the screen. The cover art was a picture of Kurt during his Dalton days, eyes bright with his smile, sitting on the grass outside the prep school and leaning back on his hands, eyes focused on whatever had made him light up.

His memory of the day wasn't all too clear, but he was willing to bet a Valentino original that it was Blaine.

The song, however, he remembered perfectly.

He hadn't known that his audition for the Warblers had been recorded, but his seventeen-year-old self was crooning _Don't Cry for Me Argentina _through small iPod speakers and there were tears in Kurt's eyes.

* * *

Class was torture.

Blaine was working with Alyssa again, and though he was happy with the progress they had made on their project, he really could've done without with the front-and-center view of her chest.

The heat in the classroom had everyone in snappish moods. The students were attempting to stay as still as possible, because if they moved the humidity became simply unbearable. Blaine curled one leg beneath him on his chair and leaned forward to rest his head on the desk. Alyssa was quiet today, her hair tied up in a high bun with little sweaty tendrils framing her face. She eyed Blaine, tapping her pencil against her binder as they silently decided on a brief break from working.

"So, Blaine. I was thinking, would you like to work on this a little more once class is over? I'm actually meeting a friend at Cool Beans at six-ish, so if you're free we could go there and wrap this up," Alyssa suggested.

Blaine lifted his head and gave her a weak smile, contemplating. They _did_ need to finish up, and they were close to being done...he didn't really have anything to do...and he was still hoping to prolong the inevitable - facing Kurt.

"Sure," he agreed. At the very least, if Alyssa became overbearing, Cecile would be there to save him from too much embarrassment.

* * *

Cool Beans was busier than usual for the time of day. Alyssa and Blaine were lucky enough to claim a large table in a corner, and immediately spread their materials out over every inch of space they had. Blaine was only trying to be a gentleman when he insisted on paying for Alyssa's coffee, but apparently she had taken it as a sign of encouragement of her romantic interest.

Smirking in a viciously victorious manner, she drew her chair closer to Blaine's than was necessary and kept one long-nailed hand on his arm as they worked. Blaine remained stiff and uncomfortable, throwing desperate glances in Cecile's direction, but if he had thought she would help him he was sorely mistaken; in fact, she seemed to take great pleasure in his pain.

"I'll just go, um, get us refills," Blaine stuttered finally, extracting himself from Alyssa's grasp and trying to control the blush flaring across his cheekbones as she kept her eyes on him (or, more accurately, his ass).

"What can I get for you?" Cecile choked out, swallowing her giggles at Blaine's discomfort.

"A medium drip and an iced caramel latte, with a little less sadism please," Blaine bit out, tossing her a sarcastic smile as she finally burst out laughing, leaning forward on the counter and burying her face in her arms. Blaine tapped his foot impatiently, grunting in faux-annoyance.

"I hate you."

"You love me, Blainers," Cecile shot back, ringing up his order. "That'll be $6.95."

Blaine shook his head at her antics and handed her a ten dollar bill.

* * *

Blaine set the coffee on the table just as a girl (Alyssa's aforementioned friend, he assumed) approached the pair.

"Hey, 'Lyssa!"

Blaine froze. He felt his chest compress and all the air in his lungs whooshed out as his muscles seized up at the voice.

"Jess!" cried Alyssa, oblivious to Blaine's shock, and jumped up to greet the girl with a tight hug.

"Jess, this is Blaine. We're doing a project together for our Music Theory course. Blaine, my friend Jess."

Blaine's jaw snapped shut as Jess turned to him, her bright smile faltering as she took him in. All the color left her cheeks.

"Blaine?"

* * *

**Author's Note: Cheesy cliffhanger is cheesy. ^.^ Aside from that, what do you think? I wonder if anyone was expecting that? Review and let me know. **

**- Av**


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's Note: Enjoying spring? I am. Favorite season. :) Thanks to **Orange-Coyote**,** anon (Guest)**, and **Guest (Guest...obviously) **for their lovely reviews. You guys made my week. :D Hope you like the chapter!**

**This story is AU, but canon up until Original Song save one little detail: Blaine and Kurt are in the same grade. Please note that it is rated M, so there will be some more mature material, but nothing too graphic. If same-sex relationships bother you for any reason, you will not enjoy this. If you are not comfortable reading about topics such as past bullying/violence, past child neglect, or situations of a sexual nature, all dealt with as tastefully as possible and in a non-graphic manner, please do not continue reading.**

**If I haven't scared you off yet, I hope you enjoy my little project here! ;)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own '**_**Glee**_**'. It and any songs/lyrics mentioned belong to their rightful owners, and no copyright infringement is intended.**

**- Av**

* * *

**Post-It Promises **

**Chapter Nine**

The CD was clearly worn down, scratches crisscrossing it as if they were tallying the years. It was well-kept, though, clean and still labeled in the scrawl of Blaine Anderson's fourteen-year-old self.

"I can't believe you still have this," Blaine breathed, turning it over in his hands as if to make sure it was real.

Jess gave him that same _Well, duh!_ look she had perfected years ago and reached over his shoulder to pluck it from his fingers.

"Of course I do, silly. When someone writes a song for you it tends to be a favorite of yours."

Blaine gave a loud, surprised laugh.

"Someone else said something similar to me a long time ago," he said.

"Writing songs for other girls?" Jess pouted with wide, fake-hurt eyes.

"Boys, actually," he blurted. Jess was immediately at attention.

"Oh? Someone special I should know about?" she asked shrewdly.

"No," Blaine sighed. "He's my best friend. He has a boyfriend!" he said quickly when he saw the look on Jess' face.

"Okay," she shrugged, but the matter clearly wasn't closed.

"Already meddling in my love life?"

"Do you _have _a love life?" Jess challenged.

"...It's complicated," Blaine said after a pause.

Jess nodded decisively. "Then yes. I want to hear the whole story. Actually, I want to hear a lot of things. Like, the past eight or so years of your life, hmm?"

Blaine chuckled. The two were seated on Jess' couch the day following their unintentional reunion at Cool Beans. Alyssa had been torn between happy surprise and jealousy that the two had known each other previously. The exchange of numbers and addresses had been hasty once the shock wore off somewhat, and Jess had left with Alyssa, looking a bit as though she'd been hit over the head with something large and heavy.

Blaine had wandered back to his apartment in a daze and discovered it empty save a note from Kurt informing Blaine that he (Kurt) was attending a mandatory lecture and would be back later. Blaine had gone to bed early without eating anything, and had lain awake, staring at the ceiling with a sense of numb awe at the turn his day had taken.

He was, however, aware enough to hear Kurt hesitate outside his door before hurrying past. The two hadn't spoken properly since the evening of Blaine's performance at Hole in the Wall. Only a few days had passed, but it was longer than they had ever gone with such emotional distance between them; it left Blaine feeling empty and weak.

Jess had popped the disk in her CD player, and after a choppy start from a scratch, a younger, less trained version of Blaine's voice filled the room.

"Oh, God, I was awful," he laughed.

"Shut up, you were amazing," Jess smiled, sitting next to him and squeezing his wrist.

Blaine sobered a bit. "I'm sorry for...you know, just leaving it..."

Jess' grin turned melancholy. "I don't regret hitting your dad, but I'm sorry it caused us to lose touch."

"I looked for you...after we moved from that house...my parents' business trips got more and more frequent, so I used the time they were away to try to find you."

Blaine searched Jess' face questioningly.

"We moved too," Jess explained. "Dad got this great offer and we ended up in Hawaii of all places...I'm so sorry I disappeared on you."

Blaine laughed. "It's neither of our faults. I'm just glad I got paired with Alyssa on this project!" he said.

"Speaking of which, she seemed to have a bit of a thing for you," Jess said with a smirk.

Blaine grimaced. With Jess' prompting and Blaine's willing participation, the afternoon turned into telling stories and catching up on eight years' worth of memories.

* * *

You could say that Kurt was frustrated, but it would probably be more accurate to simply call his state _pissed the fuck off_.

It had been nearly four days, and Blaine seemed to be successfully arranging his time at home to avoid Kurt at all costs. The most they had interacted was to exchange quick, strained pleasantries.

It hurt, actually.

Kurt knew that in Blaine's mind, bringing Adam to Hole in the Wall was the most finite form of rejection, but he couldn't help but be a little angry that Blaine hadn't even spoken to him afterward. He supposed Blaine was gathering his courage, or licking his wounds, or whatever, but even so...

Blaine had been gone all day, and Kurt knew for a fact that his morning classes had ended hours ago.

Kurt was stomping around the apartment in aggravation, attempting to find some way to use his time. Picking things up and placing them back down a few inches away from where they had been could only occupy him for so long before he went insane. Kurt sat himself down heavily at the little cluttered desk, closing his eyes and resting his arms on the cluttered surface, burying his face in his hands and letting out a little noise of pained disquiet. Shifting slightly in discomfort, he pushed something from underneath his elbow. His fingers closed around a familiar square of paper, now thinning considerably.

* * *

At first, Blaine was understandably bewildered when he entered the empty apartment and saw a green sticky note on the wall next to the hooks his and Kurt's respective sets of keys went on. Eyebrows drawn together, Blaine kicked off his shoes and grabbed the note, heading further into the room where he collected notes from the coffee table, the kitchen counter, and the door frame of his room.

Heading into his bedroom and closing his door, clutching the notes filled with Kurt's graceful handwriting and trying to ignore the odd feeling in his stomach - something between being sick with anxiety and full of anticipation - Blaine sank onto his bed and crossed his legs, spreading the green squares out in front of him.

**BLAINE**

**I know I screwed up, but the least you can let a man do is explain himself. Just give me a chance to tell you a few things. I want to work this out, Bee, but I can't if you're avoiding me.**

**In other words, two can play at this game.**

Left considerably confused and no less concerned by the first note, Blaine set it aside and reached for the second.

**Bringing Adam to your performance was a stupid mistake on my part. I should have known what it would make you think. But I was scared. Okay? I was scared of what your notes were telling me and I was scared of what I needed to do.**

That one only increased Blaine's confusion. He had never meant to make Kurt uncomfortable...but then why hadn't he asked for the notes to stop? Shaking his head, Blaine picked up the third note.

**Blaine. I broke up with Adam two days after your performance. Yes, because of you. No, that's not a bad thing. I'm not going to settle anymore. I owe that to myself and to Adam and to you.**

And the last note.

**Reason #1 That I Am In Love With Blaine Anderson:**

**The safest I've ever felt is in your arms.**

**You've been my best friend for over three years and you know me better than anyone else. I love you and I trust you. **

**Bee, I'll be home at five and you'd better be there then. We need to talk.**

* * *

Quite honestly, all Blaine had felt for the past few hours was numb disbelief. Now that his brain was catching up to everything and the sense of non-feeling was fading away, waiting for Kurt was torture. Blaine was anxiously wandering from room to room, unable to sit still, itching with the desire to see Kurt, to know for _sure_ that it was real; that he wasn't making it all up in his head.

If he hadn't already known it before, he could sure as hell confirm it now - being in love was nerve-wracking.

Checking his watch every few minutes only seemed to make time go slower, so he went into the kitchen, opened the refrigerator, closed it without looking inside, and went back into the living room. He sat down at the desk fidgeted with a stray paperclip for a few moments before jumping up again, wringing his hands and flopping down on the couch.

Four forty-five. Four fifty-three. Four fifty-nine. Five oh-one. Five oh-three -

A familiar set of keys jangled outside the door, the lock clicked, and someone hesitated outside. Blaine was half-standing, almost ready to jump up and yank the door open himself, but forced himself to give Kurt a moment.

* * *

Kurt paused outside the door, keys still dangling from his fingers, finding himself not at all reluctant to open it. Something odd - he was no longer second-guessing. Things like this shouldn't seem so simple. The right thing had always been the most difficult thing for him, and this ease, the lack of anxiety lingering in his limbs replaced with a pleasant buzz of anticipation at his fingertips was more frightening than the prospect of the change that would take place in the most stable relationship he had ever had with anybody the moment he walked through that door.

...The one he was still standing in front of, gaping at dumbly.

Shaking himself out of his daze, Kurt opened the door and shoved his keys in his pocket, looking up to find Blaine hovering in front of the couch, golden eyes wide and molten with something like terror glowing behind them.

Kurt forced a laugh back down this throat at the expression on Blaine's face and instead offered a small, sweet smile.

Blaine stepped forward, looking a little unsteady on his feet, but Kurt was there to catch him and wrap him up in his arms, holding him tight until he could hold himself together.

"Kurt -"

Blaine pulled back, cutting himself off with a shake of his head. Kurt gripped his arms and blinked down at him, waiting. Blaine's turn to make a move.

Kurt could read Blaine like an open book. Blaine had started this, and he wanted to finish it. Far be it from Kurt to take that from him.

Then Kurt's face was cupped in rough, guitarist's palms and hot, dry lips were sliding over his own, moistened from constantly chewing on them. One of Blaine's arms curved over his shoulders, the other gripped his shirt, and Kurt fitted himself to the curve of Blaine's body, feeling a shiver of relief travel down Blaine's spine.

* * *

**Author's Note: YOU GUYS WERE SO PATIENT THANK YOU SO MUCH I LOVE YOU ALL MUAH! And now you have a kiss. **_**Fi-na-lly**_**! I've still got one or two more chapters up my sleeve, so look forward to those, but I've also got finals looming like a...well...something decidedly ugly and frightening. It might take a little while, but school's out on the 19th for me, so you shouldn't have to wait too long. :) In my author's note for the final chapter of **_**Post-It Promises**_**, I'll tell you a bit about the next story I have planned, so keep an eye out for that, kay?**

**Also, if you're going to/have been to the Listen Up tour, I'd love to hear about your experiences! I was **_**this close**_** to tickets, but unfortunately I was ultimately unable to get any. So PM me so I can live vicariously through you! :D**

**- Av**


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's Note: Hey guys! Finals were semi-tortuous, but I'm back now! Summer is a welcome reprieve, and next year is bound to be even more stressful, 'cause my guidance counselor wants me to start some writing/literature college courses. Exciting, but it'll be crazy. :) Anyway, this chapter is gonna be a bit steamy. ;) Just so you know what you're in for. My gosh guys...I can't believe it's almost over! One more chapter after this and **_**Post-It Promises **_**is history! Thank you all so much for your kind words. At the end of the next chapter, I'll give you some info on my next FF project, which I've begun working on already. Thank you to **Orange-Coyote **for her lovely review and to all the people who PM'd me, and favorited or alerted this story or myself all throughout. You guys are awesome.**

**This story is AU, but canon up until Original Song save one little detail: Blaine and Kurt are in the same grade. Please note that it is rated M, so there will be some more mature material, but nothing too graphic. If same-sex relationships bother you for any reason, you will not enjoy this. If you are not comfortable reading about topics such as past bullying/violence, past child neglect, or situations of a sexual nature, all dealt with as tastefully as possible and in a non-graphic manner, please do not continue reading.**

**If I haven't scared you off yet, I hope you enjoy my little project here! ;)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own '**_**Glee**_**'. It and any songs/lyrics mentioned belong to their rightful owners, and no copyright infringement is intended.**

**- Av**

* * *

**Post-It Promises **

**Chapter Ten**

Kissing was better than talking. Really, why would you want to form words with your tongue when it could be in Kurt Hummel's mouth?

Blaine and Kurt were tangled together in the middle of the room, intensity burning in their lungs, breathing each other in. With a low moan, Kurt broke their kiss and, still clutching Blaine, stumbled backwards to sit heavily on the couch. Blaine landed in a rather ungraceful pile of limbs in Kurt's lap. Untangling himself, Blaine settled himself in Kurt's lap as Kurt searched for his lips again, pressing kisses to the corner of Blaine's mouth before claiming it once more.

Once again Kurt tore himself away.

"We - Blaine, we should, uh..."

Blaine groaned, and then gave a little nervous laugh, shifting to sit next to Kurt rather than on top of him.

"Right. Talk. I mean. We should do that. Talk."

Blaine rubbed his palms over his thighs, blushing all down his neck.

"Kurt, did my notes...I never meant for you to... Did they make you uncomfortable?"

Kurt crossed his legs beneath himself, leaning forward in his elbows.

"Yes," he said firmly after considering for a long moment. Blaine closed his eyes, bowing his head slightly in response.

"Yes," Kurt continued, sliding his fingers over Blaine's hand gently, "they made me uncomfortable, but you can't say that something like that wasn't meant to make me uncomfortable. It made me _think_, Blaine, and isn't that what you were going for? Sometimes people don't want to think. Sometimes they're too busy thinking what they feel like they should be thinking to actually be rational. Am I making sense?"

Blaine raised his head and blinked at Kurt.

"But I never wanted you to - to feel like I - I didn't want there to be some sort of _obligation_ or anything I just wanted -"

"You wanted to get something important off your chest and you wanted me to realize some things that, honestly...Blaine, no matter how I went about coming to terms with the fact that - with..._this_, it would've been anything but comfortable at this point," Kurt said calmly, and that was that.

Blaine swallowed and turned his palm face up on his knee. Kurt placed his hand in Blaine's and squeezed gently.

"I love you, Blaine. Okay?"

Blaine gave a choked little laugh. "I love you too," he whispered. "Kind of a lot."

Kurt smiled and unfolded his legs, crawling over to straddle Blaine's thighs. Blaine looked more than a little dazed by this move, but wrapped his arms around Kurt's waist. Neither said anything, content to spend the evening discovering each other in a much more physical way.

* * *

Blaine woke slowly, not really fully conscious even once he was. The warm body curled into his felt comforting and safe, something he rarely felt when waking up naked; a cheek was pressed to his shoulder and a leg thrown over one of his, toes pressing into his calf in a familiar gesture...

Blaine's mind began to catch up to his surroundings and he grinned lazily into the head of chestnut hair nestled under his chin. The two were sprawled on the couch, covered by an old afghan. Kurt was still asleep, his breathing even, deep, and familiar. The city was truly awakening as nighttime provided masks for the masquerade of nightlife. The wide windows that looked out over the street were glowing portraits of lights spotting buildings and cars and sidewalks, and somehow the moment couldn't be more private.

Blaine's hand brushed down the elegant curve of Kurt's bare back and the responding, sleepy sigh echoed in their little bubble pleasantly. Blaine felt Kurt's lips pucker against Blaine's clavicle and his nose (Blaine could picture it wrinkled cutely) rubbing against his collarbone.

"Bee?" Kurt yawned, his breath hot against Blaine's chest; he rolled over, squirming to lie between Blaine's legs and rest his head against Blaine's shoulder.

"Mmuh?"

Kurt giggled at Blaine's sleep-rough voice.

"What?" Blaine murmured, not wanting to break the fragile quiet that was somehow helped along by the hum of the refrigerator and the muffled sounds of the city reminding them that life existed outside of each other.

"Nothing, just...I'm glad it happened this way," Kurt said softly, running his hand over Blaine's forearm and lifting Blaine's hand to examine his fingers before lacing them with his own. "Us. I'm glad we happened this way."

Blaine squeezed their intertwined fingers. "That's a lot of everything to be just nothing."

* * *

When Kurt woke the next morning, the last thing he expected to see was an extremely self-satisfied Rachel Berry sitting at the kitchen table with a glass of orange juice, pretending to do the crossword.

"Good _mooorning_," she drawled in a very bad British accent.

"Yes, yes, I know. You told me so, it's about time, etc., etc...Now, would you kindly leave the room so I can...erm...get dressed?"

Rachel snorted. Kurt glared.

"Kurt -"

"Rachel, no."

"But you-"

"Rachel._ No_."

Giggling, Rachel got up and went into Kurt's room, tossing a pair of skinny jeans and a sweater into the living room.

"_Rachel _don't you _ever_ throw my clothes!"

Blaine decided to pretend to sleep for a little longer.

* * *

"So. _So_!"

"Rach, stop pretending to be our mother and go ahead and - and - _squeal_ or whatever you girls do when you're right," Blaine sighed half an hour later, grabbing a bagel from the kitchen and plopping down on the couch next to Kurt.

Rachel's grin grew and she jumped up from her perch on the coffee table and threw herself at them, landing in their laps.

"Oh, I knew it, I knew it, I _knew _it! How'd it happen? Who jumped who? What about Adam? When'd you guys break up? You _did_ break up with him, right Kurt? Because cheating is absolutely _no_ way to start a new relationship no matter _how_ long I've been waiting for you two to get your act together -"

"Remind me," Kurt said to a bemused Blaine, "why we gave her a key?"

"Because we love her, even if she's crazy."

"Are you guys even _listening_?!"

* * *

'_Hellooooo, you've reached Jess! Or rather, you haven't. Clearly, your call is not as important to me as whatever I'm doing at the moment, so leave a message and I'll decide whether you're worth my time!'_

"Hey Jess, it's Bee. I was just wondering if - well, you remember Kurt? I told you about him the other day. Um...things with him just got a lot less complicated...or, I dunno, maybe a lot more...anyway, I was hoping to introduce you to him. _Him_ being my boyfriend. 'Kay love you bye!"

* * *

'_Hi, you've reached Blaine Anderson. Leave me a message and I'll get back to you!'_

"Funny, Bee, reaaaal freakin' funny! Pick up your damn phone! I want to hear _everything_. Ev-ry-thing! Blaaaaaine! And I've _got_ to meet him! PICK UP YOUR PHONE BLAINE DEVON ANDERSON."

* * *

Blaine entered the dorm building, an anxious, slightly sick feeling building in the pit of his stomach. Fans circulated the same gross, humid air around the building, and everything smelled faintly of sweaty socks. He wondered how Kurt had resisted clearing the place out and giving it a top-to-bottom scrub.

The door to Adam's room was propped open by a fan fluttering ribbons tied to it. The room itself was a mess, and Adam was at his desk, bent over a laptop.

Blaine knocked lightly, and Adam jumped.

"Hey Adam," Blaine said hesitantly.

Adam's posture stiffened and his eyes widened.

"Hi Blaine," he said quietly. "What's up?" he asked in a futile attempt at nonchalance.

"I - don't really know why I came," Blaine admitted with an awkward laugh. "I don't know what I can say..."

"Just - just don't hurt him, okay? I know he and I weren't..._right_ together...just be good to him, okay?"

It turned out Blaine didn't have to say much after all.

* * *

**Author's Note: Hey guys! This one jumped around a bit, and it's a teensy bit on the short side, but I hope you enjoyed it anyway. Next chapter will be our last! Love you all!**

**- Av**


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's Note: Hello for the final time! **_**Post-It Promises**_** is at its end and it's been a wonderful five months. (Nearly half a year, wow!) It's been awhile since Chapter 10, but summer's been a bit cray-cray. I hope you all enjoy this final installment, and maybe plan to check out my next story, **_**Kiss Your Scars**_**, also a Klaine AU. Thanks to **Christina B**, **the-power-of-love**, and **katie-the-warbler **for their reviews, along with everyone else who reviewed, favorited, alerted, and read throughout the story. :)**

**This story is AU, but canon up until Original Song save one little detail: Blaine and Kurt are in the same grade. Please note that it is rated M, so there will be some more mature material, but nothing too graphic. If same-sex relationships bother you for any reason, you will not enjoy this. If you are not comfortable reading about topics such as past bullying/violence, past child neglect, or situations of a sexual nature, all dealt with as tastefully as possible and in a non-graphic manner, please do not continue reading.**

**If I haven't scared you off yet, I hope you enjoy my little project here! ;)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own '**_**Glee**_**'. It and any songs/lyrics mentioned belong to their rightful owners, and no copyright infringement is intended.**

**- Av**

* * *

**Post-It Promises**

**Chapter Eleven**

Hole in the Wall was brighter that night, even with the same smoky haze hanging over the bar and the same dim, flickering lights that were, according to the beady-eyed, big-nosed owner, for "_aaahhm_-biance", but were really just the cheapest lighting he could find, the same crowd of pushy college students and performers whose mics squealed with feedback but it didn't matter much because their vocals didn't sound a whole lot better than the technological difficulties.

But still, Blaine thought, brighter. Warmer, sweet and musky like the summer evening outside.

Blaine's perch on the two-foot-tall stage didn't give him much of an advantage view-wise than if he'd been standing on the floor, but he still looked up from under his eyelashes and scanned what of the small but tangled throng of people in the bar, fiddling with the tuners on his guitar. His gaze landed on Kurt, who was weaving his way to the stage with Rachel and Brody in tow. Kurt leaned his palms on the stage and Blaine took that as his cue to kneel down and get as level with his boyfriend as he could.

"You look...different," Kurt commented, taking the opportunity to smooth a wrinkle out of the shoulder of Blaine's polo.

"Different...?"

"You look nervous. You never get nervous before a performance, Bee. Is everything okay?"

Blaine thought about it for a moment, really thought about it.

"Yeah," Blaine laughed. "Yeah, everything's really perfect."

Kurt smiled that sweet smile reserved for Blaine, and backed away a little, taking his place next to Rachel as Blaine approached the microphone and began his show.

Maybe his set list was a little brighter, a little warmer, a little sweeter than usual as well. Any song he chose now, the music would feel less like a burden, a performance of "I'm okay, I'm fine, really I am" to everyone around him and more like a "Look around you, isn't everything lovely today?", because it was.

And then he came to that song, that one song in every performance that had "For Kurt" written all over it even if it wasn't a conscious decision. But this time, like last time, it was. It was a short song, nothing big or flashy. He was past the loudness of his high school days, and something about the simplicity of it all made his heart ache in the best way possible.

Kurt was watching him. Blaine locked their eyes and sang directly to him, wishing he could instead gather the man into his arms and sway with him right there on stage, dance to the gentle melody of the newness and oldness and foreverness of their love.

"_Did I drive you away?_

_I know what you'll say,_

_You'll say, "Oh, sing one we know"._

_But I promise you this,_

_I'll always look out for you,_

_That's what I'll do._

_I say "oh,"_

_I say "oh."_

_My heart is yours,_

_It's you that I hold on to,_

_That's what I do,_

_And I know I was wrong,_

_But I won't let you down,_

_(Oh yeah, yeah, yes I will)_

_I say "oh",_

_I cry "oh"._

_And I saw sparks,_

_Yeah I saw sparks,_

_And I saw sparks,_

_Yeah I saw sparks,_

_Sing it out..._

_La, la, la, la, oh_

_La, la, la, la, oh_

_La, la, la, la, oh_..."

* * *

"Do I get a "You were right thank you Cecile, we're forever in your debt" now?"

"Hello to you too, Cecile, long time no see," Kurt commented, mildly amused by the sweet woman's antics. Blaine just rolled his eyes, linking his arm with Kurt's and not even bothering to suppress his smile for Cecile.

"The usual," he said, and Cecile's eyes twinkled.

Kurt's hand came up to rest on Blaine's bicep and his head leaning into Blaine's, their temples rested against each other.

Cecile's smile was wide and genuine and so, so happy for the two young men as she handed them their coffee and a bag with a giant sugar cookie.

"Thank you," Blaine told her, eyes wide and shining, smile a little playful, and Cecile didn't think anyone was ever quite that grateful for coffee. Not even Blaine Anderson.

* * *

The apartment was quieter lately than ever, an odd thing to its two inhabitants. Maybe such big changes in such a short amount of time warranted a period of hush, but nothing about it was too much, too silent, too strange.

Blaine was spread out on the floor in front of the couch, papers and textbooks abandoned in favor of his guitar and a mindless tune. Kurt was sitting in the desk chair, using one foot to swivel himself slightly from side to side, sifting through the mess on the desk, having long since forgotten what he was actually looking for. His hand came up with a clump of green sticky notes stuck together, and he smiled as he separated them, expecting the words to be familiar.

**KURT**

**I'm not quite sure how to go on from here. It seems there's no way to -**

The first note cut off there, so Kurt, frowning slightly, peeled the next one out of the clump.

**KURT**

**Fuck this I'm fucking madly in love with you why don't you fucking GET IT okay that's not fair you're with Adam what the fuck am I doing?**

Pursing his lips to contain a giggle, Kurt discarded that note for the third one.

**KURT**

**I can promise you something Adam can't. **

**I can promise you that no matter what, I will always be the one who knows you inside out.**

**I'm a selfish prick, aren't I? No wonder you love Adam and not me. Stupid perfect Adam.**

**Fuck it.**

And the last one.

**Kurt. Kurt I would promise you the moon and the stars if that would make you love me but it won't and I know it and I'm just so sorry for this mess.**

Kurt hadn't noticed the strumming stop, or that Blaine was watching him go through what were clearly drafts of his post-it notes, or that the smaller, dark-haired man had stood and made his way quietly over to the desk. It startled Kurt when he felt Blaine's hand on his shoulder, but he looked up and held out the notes, feeling oddly sheepish.

"These -"

Blaine shook his head, smiling slightly. He nudged Kurt out of the chair and took the seat, but made up for it by tugging Kurt into his lap. Wrapping his arms around Kurt's middle, Blaine reached for the thin pad of green sticky notes and a pen.

"Those ones -"

Blaine didn't finish, and he didn't have to. Instead, he rested the post-it notes against Kurt's knee and scribbled something out onto the top one. Kurt watched the pen move, taking in the words as they formed on the paper, a little messy from the bad angle and his makeshift desk of Kurt's knee cap.

**KURT**

**I can't promise you the moon and the stars, but I can promise you my heart, and my love, and my music, and the rest of my life to watch the moon and the stars in your arms.**

* * *

**Author's Note: Wow, I don't really know what to say guys. Thank you all so much. The response I got was way better than anything I expected. **

**The song used in the chapter is "Sparks" by Coldplay.**

**Now, about my next story. **_**Kiss Your Scars**_** is a Klaine AU taking place in the summer post Season 3. It will be as if Dalton does not exist in Ohio and Kurt and Blaine never met in Season 2. Blaine moved from Ohio to California with Cooper once his brother was able to gain custody from their neglectful, emotionally abusive parents. Dalton is a performing arts high school in San Francisco that Blaine (and some of the other known Warblers such as Nick, Jeff, Wes, David, etc.) goes to. When the Hummel-Hudson family goes on vacation to San Francisco the summer before Kurt and Finn's senior year, Kurt and Blaine meet. They hit off and begin casually dating. One night at a party, Kurt gets a little tipsy and admits that his bully, Karofsky, raped him the previous year. Blaine is horrified and spends the night awake, pondering. The next morning, he, in return, tells Kurt a snippet about his past life, and then proceeds to inform Kurt that he wants to do things right. Blaine spends the following weeks wooing Kurt and they slowly let each other in until all of their pasts are revealed. They end the summer together as boyfriends and best friends, and closer than ever. However, they still have one year to get through before they can move forward with their plans to meet up in New York and be together. **

**KYS will be considerably longer than PIP, and will be told in two parts: Part I: Summer and Part II: Senior Year. It may also take a bit for me to get it up. I hope you guys will check it out once it is posted, though! :)**

**So for now, bye guys! It has been totally awesome.**

**-Av**


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